


In Between Then & Now

by incielum



Category: F4 Thailand (TV), F4 Thailand (TV) RPF, เพราะเราคู่กัน | 2gether: The Series (Thailand TV), เพราะเราคู่กัน | 2gether: The Series (Thailand TV) RPF
Genre: Angst, Healthy Relationships Fall Apart Too, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incielum/pseuds/incielum
Summary: When relationships end, they do - as well - not necessarily have to end in the wreckage. Some close the book in silence, where the individuals that take (or, rather , took ) part in the story mutually agree to write its end safely in the quiet. In more fortunate cases, the pain comes in one big blow, and while the next days, months, or even years can be unbearable - once it has subsided, it is forgotten. Life gains a sense of normalcy that is acceptable, which one can slide into easily.In worse cases, the pain is gradual. It can come in unpredictable surges and indistinguishable feats. It then makes it difficult to stay friends in the aftermath, even when both have decided to do so.
Relationships: Bright Vachirawit Chivaaree & Win Metawin Opas-iamkajorn, Bright Vachirawit Chivaaree/Win Metawin Opas-iamkajorn
Comments: 20
Kudos: 42





	1. Friends & Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When relationships end, they do - as well - not necessarily have to end in the wreckage. Some close the book in silence, where the individuals that take (or, rather , took ) part in the story mutually agree to write its end safely in the quiet. In more fortunate cases, the pain comes in one big blow, and while the next days, months, or even years can be unbearable - once it has subsided, it is forgotten. Life gains a sense of normalcy that is acceptable, which one can slide into easily. 
> 
> In worse cases, the pain is gradual. It can come in unpredictable surges and indistinguishable feats. It then makes it difficult to stay friends in the aftermath, even when both have decided to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be grammatical and spelling errors as well as missing words - feel free to point them out. Also, comment and kudos if you like my work.
> 
> Playing: Love Somebody by Lauv

Relationships do not all have to last. Nor do they have the obligation to in the first place, because the label of being in a relationship is not what makes relationships work. Whatever that _relationship_ may pertain to. What makes them last are the parties who are directly involved and whether or not they invest enough effort to continue. That is the foundational truth to any human interaction. 

Moreover, when relationships end, they do - as well - not necessarily have to end in the wreckage. Some close the book in silence, where the individuals that take (or, rather _, took_ ) part in the story mutually agree to write its end safely in the quiet. In more fortunate cases, the pain comes in one big blow, and while the next days, months, or even years can be unbearable - once it has subsided, it is forgotten. Life gains a sense of normalcy that is acceptable, which one can slide into easily. 

In worse cases, the pain is gradual. It can come in unpredictable surges and indistinguishable feats. It then makes it difficult to stay friends in the aftermath, even when both have decided to do so. That despite the supposed mutual acceptance of the circumstances from the involved individuals, it still hurt: 

To be in a shared place; especially in a restaurant they frequent as a couple and take part in meals that they used to share. Taste the same food and drinks with the mix of memories from touches of laughter shared over the years.

To hear the song that used to be theirs play on the radio during their long drive as friends, after the break up. The thought that that song will no longer be the tune they will be dancing to together at a wedding that they will never have. 

To go to events with friends they share and celebrate their triumphs or be with them in their grievances, as though they still move as one unit. A singular person in which when one is invited, the other must immediately follow. 

The spurts of pain become unbearable as they accumulate over time and it is suddenly hard to breathe in the same space. They drift apart. It is an unexplainable phenomenon. It is not sudden, however. It is as gradual as how the pain came and went. One day one decides to decline an invitation and spend time elsewhere. The next, the other thinks they can do something successfully on their own after all. It happens so frequently that they stop.

There are no longer messages from each other.

The group chats remain seen unless there is a need to respond.

Social media posts no longer tag or mention any of their names together. 

Then one day both live as though they are almost total strangers. Their friends and families wonder briefly but decide it is for the best that they take time apart. They, after all, bear witness to the silent struggles the former lovers hide behind a facade of smiles. Perhaps, they also think, it is time they spend it living and growing up. They miss them though, they - to them - will always be the perfect match. 

Some matches, however, exist only for a time as guiding lights that should point in the right direction. 

That is them, that is their story - that should be their story.

Then time moves forward. No one worries about it or even notices it much. They all continue living their lives. The former lovers change their routine and have met with others, going as far as even introducing them to the people that shape their circle. One has even traveled the world, something they never think to do alone. 

There is no hurt anymore - only the nostalgia, which shows itself rarely. From familiar songs that play randomly at shuffle mode to photographs on social media throwbacks, which most have been either deleted or untagged, depending on the gravity of the mood.

For the most part, they are okay.

For the most part, they are happy. 

Finally.

_Finally._

So when Metawin - who is freshly awake from jet lag, from his flight home after his European tour - enters a bustling cafe at the heart of Central Bangkok with his family, whom he has not seen for quite some time, and with friends, whom he pledges to backpack around Thailand with, he did not expect a tidal wave emotions to come crashing into him at a speed he cannot fathom. 

He feels as though he is drowning once more, in feelings, memories, and thoughts he thinks he has long moved on from. It is suffocating him and it hurts him as much as it pains him to feel his heart pound against his chest. As though it wants to break free from the bones that cage it securely.

Metawin wants to cry and even more so run away.

After all, after what seems like years, he sees Vachirawit again, sitting on the other end of the restaurant. Happily dining with a company he surely has never seen before. 

He prays that his former partner remains distracted, unaware that they are in the same vicinity. He prays that he continues enjoying his time with whom Metawin assumes to be his date. As much as he dislikes the thought of it. 

Unfortunately, the universe decides against Metawin at that moment as Vachirawit thinks it is the best time to follow-up with the waiter for dessert. Vachirawit raises his hand as he turns to the entrance. To the exact direction where Metawin stands frozen. 

The hand that met the air then drops slowly to its owner’s side.

The eyes of the former lovers meet. 

Metawin feels his insides crumble and, suddenly, all the progress he has made to be better is blown away at the very moment their sights land on each other. The years' worth of emotional investments and memories overwhelms him. The love he is reminded of overwhelms him. 

Questions he has feared to ask over time spent away resurfaced:

_Why did they let it start?_

_Why did they let it end?_

_Why did they not fight for them?_

_Were they not worth fighting for?_

Life sure has a funny way of letting a person know they have not moved forward.

Metawin realizes just that.

  
**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Strangers & Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years ago, when one Metawin Opas-iamkajorn, Win to his friends, met one Vachirawit Chivaaree, Bright to his, Win did not expect to experience love as though it was his first time. When he had plenty of relationships in the years before they had met. Likewise, he was sure that Bright had his former lovers, perhaps at a number even beyond his.
> 
> Win did though. He fell in love in a way that was different from the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be grammatical and spelling errors as well as missing words - feel free to point them out. Also, comment and kudos if you like my work.
> 
> Playing: Small Talk by Katy Perry

The universe always had a funny habit of bringing complete strangers together; regardless of the outcome in the long run or whatever the length of stay would be. Oftentimes, one could wonder why, in fact, two points had to meet and separate in a span of minutes - _what was the point_? Of course, that would not be the case for some others. Those fortunate and unfortunate whose times together would last longer had courses that ran, tucked with experiences and memories that should steer them for the better in the aftermath.

Five years ago, when one Metawin Opas-iamkajorn, _Win_ to his friends, met one Vachirawit Chivaaree, _Bright_ to his, Win did not expect to experience love as though it was his first time. When he had plenty of relationships in the years before they had met. Likewise, he was sure that Bright had his former lovers, perhaps at a number even beyond his.

Win did though. He fell in love in a way that was different from the rest. However, unlike the great romances told in stories of old, it was not all at once. Rather, there was time spent together and there was chemistry shared that Win admitted he could not find in others. Yet it was quiet and peaceful, though not without the butterflies. Not without the intensity of a heart that was ready to burst - but in the most positive of ways. 

The attraction was not instant. 

They met over dinner, a mutual friend's birthday celebration, at a posh Japanese restaurant in the heart of Bangkok. It was not even a grand meeting, rather they were just introduced in a manner that was passive and brief as their friend also had other guests to attend to. They were seated next to each other though, and having no one else to speak with throughout the evening - given that, save for the celebrant who was busy celebrating, their other friends had respective partners that they would rather enjoy the night with - Win and Bright decided it would not hurt to become friends. 

The two talked all night. Their exchanges were not life-changing but they were light enough to have laughter shared in between them. They even shared a few drinks late in that very evening. However, at that time, they did not have their own world. Rather, if someone joined them, the newcomer had been welcomed warmly. 

The dinner party ended uneventfully, with a drunken birthday celebrant pulling both Win and Bright into his arms for support and with two separate groups of friends circling them. "Let's all hang out again! I love you guys!" The celebrant sobbed, which earned him laughs from the multiple individuals that surrounded him. 

"Sure, let's do this again," Bright answered as he looked at Win from the other side with a smile. 

Win smiled back. “Yeah, let’s.”

They did two weeks later. The same friend invited the two circles together again over at his place. Win and Bright met again, and that time around there were no slow starts. They spoke as though they had been talking for the longest time. Win found it pleasant. 

Soon enough their friend groups merged, and Win and Bright orbited around each other frequently. At some point, it was no longer that one friend that tethered the two circles together. It was Win and Bright. Sometimes, Bright would invite Win and the latter would tell his friends or vice-versa. Of course, not everyone would be present all the time. But if there was a Bright then there should be a Win, as well as the other way around. 

Which was strange, they were the complete opposites in the majority of their likes. Yet, there they were enjoying each other's company regardless of the differences in music, movies, series, and whatever else. 

Win was confident to have found a best friend in Bright. 

Suddenly, some lunches and dinners were just for the two of them at a restaurant one had wanted to try. Until there was one restaurant that became their comfort space. There were events held that only they attended. Sometimes, there were just weekends spent at Win's place or Bright's - with their pets (despite Win's allergy and fear of animals, save for his beloved dog). Updates to their friends were made via social media, when one of them would send a screencap and a joking message of why they were not invited in their group chat. 

That was, however, not to say that they had alienated themselves from the rest of the group. There were still outings they attended as a whole, after all. Although, even then Win and Bright had conversations and jokes no one could relate to. They spoke a language that was entirely their own. They seemed happy as well, to have had a synchronization that was uniquely theirs.

Correction: they did not alienate themselves on purpose.

Their friends noticed it, perhaps even earlier than the two did. The teasing ensued one day, Win could barely remember when exactly. Though he was not conscious of the way their friends would tease them in person or by text. He was completely fine with the entire thing. Bright, as well, seemed to have enjoyed the attention they were given. After all, he would join from time to time - depending on the tone and manner of the teasing. 

He even went as far as calling Win, _baby_. 

At which, Win rolled his eyes. 

The teasing continued for a time - perhaps for a year or two, with stunts pulled by their friends in between. One of which was having to have left them alone together during one of their many trips to the beach. Which the two were unbothered by. 

It was not until one day mid-year, Win woke up and completed his entire morning routine before he went to meet Bright that he realized he may have liked his best friend a bit more than before. That he may have liked him a bit more beyond the way he should like a best friend. He was more or less dumbfounded by that. Yet he understood it to be the most natural course. 

Every time shared, since his realization, became more and more special to Win. Despite the butterflies that continuously crashed into the walls of his stomach and how his heart suddenly decided it did not want to be trapped inside his chest every moment he would catch even just a quick glimpse of Bright, Win felt comfortable in the thought that he perhaps liked his best friend in a romantic sense.

Bright, which Win noticed too, began to do things out of the norm. Their dinners and lunches grew in intimacy, where their hands would meet over the table. Every time they would, Bright always made it seem as though he had the most precious hand in the world safely rested in his. In events with their friends, he made it a point to steal moments with Win - alone, sometimes in forms of whispers that passed from one's lips to the other's ear. 

Their conversations of whatever topic, in all ways of communication possible between them, which usually ended at midnight stretched farther into the hours of the mornight, before the sun was set to rise. As though they did not need a sense of time and space when it was just the two of them. There were no regrets at all later in the daylight, even when they would have trouble keeping themselves awake. 

It was, as Win first found it when he first acknowledged that he may have liked Bright more than the usual, _only natural_. 

One day, at four o'clock in the morning, in the aftermath of their friend's wedding, they leaned on the hood of Win's car, which was parked in front of Bright's building. Their fingers intertwined as their hands rested on the sedan and as they looked up at the moonlit city sky. There was only calm silence after the last words that had been uttered. 

“I like you.” 

“I like you too.”

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet, there he was, in his bed with Metawin asleep in his arms as the sun decided to shine past the glass of his window. The light added more shade to the already scenic view of their bodies - void of clothing - tangled underneath the blanket that had been sullied of their love-making from the previous night. He adored it, the sight of Metawin the second he had to wake. 
> 
> No, he worshipped it the way the faithful worshipped their gods. Vachirawit knew the very thought was blasphemous - but it was the only way he could describe the love that rushed up his spine every moment he laid his eyes on his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be grammatical and spelling errors as well as missing words - feel free to point them out. Also, comment and kudos if you like my work.
> 
> Happy Valentine's, folks!
> 
> Playing: Anyone by Justin Bieber

Wise men may perhaps fail to determine the factors that made love real. There were, after all, way too many kinds of relationships and twice as many permutations of individuals to mix and match out of seven billion people in the entire world. Although, Win was admittedly not a mathematician- despite his degree in economics. Though he could, maybe. Not that he wanted to figure out the entire equation of it.

Who was he, after all, to say which love was real and which was not? 

Win, however, was certain that what he and Bright had was real. He could not state it enough, himself - everything about the two of them made sense. So much sense that any regret that may have lingered disappeared as though the world had compelled him to believe that it was alright to have failed with the rest. That whatever had happened in the years before he met Bright prepared him for the beauty that presented itself when Bright came along. 

They were, indeed, very beautiful. 

Not that their romance continued in extravagant gestures - it had very little of it. Theirs was mundane but it was deep and Win would not have wished it any other way. The conversations over morning coffee after they had awoken beside each other, the soft quick kisses they would share each time before they separated and after they met, and the way their skins gravitated towards each other regardless of purposefulness - they were small but those little things, despite how minuscule, promised so much overwhelming love that Win could not help but be so thankful that he hoped his gratitude reached every kind of deity there was.

Though, their relationship was not without the quirks every couple had to have. Of course, they had ups and downs. They were, after all, still imperfect. Humans. There were plenty of arguments and problems, which they were thankfully mature enough to figure out without the need for violent words and actions. Moreover, there was more laughter shared than there were tears shed.

Win never thought he would be so lucky to have found someone he wanted to treasure for all his life. He never thought to be so fortunate to have Bright be at his center, besides himself. He was very much in love and he wanted to remain that way for as long as he was allowed to be. 

So when one of them had blurted an “I love you” in passing - or accidentally, perhaps, during one of their afternoon coffee dates at the balcony of Win’s condo unit, which overlooked the city that seemed so insignificant at that very moment, Win happily accepted that he was in it for the long haul. 

Win smiled and placed the cup, which he cradled safely in both of his hands, on the table that parted him from his partner. He stood up and ventured to where Bright comfortably sat, who had a smile stretched across his face as well. Then, at the second he reached the back of Bright’s seat, Win leaned down and planted a kiss on Bright’s lips.

Bright, in turn, received it openly. 

There was no hesitation heard in the response: “I love you too.”

  
  
  
  


In the time spent having hurt and be hurt, to have found a home in a person he never thought to even call his best friend was a pleasant surprise. Vachirawit never felt a sense of belongingness despite the numerous people that came in and out of his life. He remembered that he had already come to the conclusion that he would not be able to find anyone in the current lifetime and had also stopped hoping for it, in consequence. 

Yet, there he was, in his bed with Metawin asleep in his arms as the sun decided to shine past the glass of his window. The light added more shade to the already scenic view of their bodies - void of clothing - tangled underneath the blanket that had been sullied of their love-making from the previous night. He adored it, the sight of Metawin the second he had to wake. 

No, he worshipped it the way the faithful worshipped their gods. Vachirawit knew the very thought was blasphemous - but it was the only way he could describe the love that rushed up his spine every moment he laid his eyes on his partner. 

The way he loved Metawin was intense despite how ordinary they were compared to the other relationships he knew about or even experienced, himself. Though he bore no qualms against how they were as lovers. Metawin was Vachirawit’s home - his rest, after all. He swore he would never tire of it -

No matter how many times they had to run to the grocery for their midnight snacks or how many times they dined at the same restaurant, and regardless of the weight they had gained. 

No matter the long-drive road trips and events in the middle of the worst work schedules, with the same songs that blasted from the radio of the car. 

No matter how many times they met the same people and shared the same experiences - the good and the bad.

He promised to never be tired of any of it, as long as it was all with Metawin. 

Vachirawit felt his partner stir and he smiled slightly as he watched him fight off the wake that threatened to lure him away from his slumber. 

Loving and being in love with Metawin was easy, and Vachirawit could not even dare to so much as imagine being completely separated from him. Nor could he picture any challenge strong enough to break them apart. If there ever was, not that he wished for it at all, he would fight. With every ounce of his being, Vachirawit would battle until the very end to keep them together.

“Good morning,” Metawin mumbled in slurred vowels as he tightened his hold around his partner’s chest and as he leaned his lips into his partner’s neck, “Vachirawit.”

“Good morning,” Vachirawit replied, slowly pulling away from the warmth that he immediately missed. 

“No, wait -” Metawin, in turn, whined sleepily, having to be without his partner’s embrace. “Five more minutes.”

A chuckle escaped Vachirawit before he moved to position himself atop his partner, allowing for an angle more comfortable to capture Metawin’s numbed lips - “you can have me for the rest of my life, Metawin.” He whispered huskily before drowning him into a searing kiss.

Metawin laughed upon breaking the lock. “What’s gotten into you?” He asked, his eyes finally found the energy to meet Vachirawit’s. He wrapped his arms around his partner’s neck just as Vachirawit’s found their way around Metawin’s waist, which seemed to fit his hold perfectly. 

“You.” Was Vachirawit’s curt answer before he pulled their bodies closer together, permitting their skins and sweat to meet once more - feeling each other as though it was the first time they would dance in the heat of the moment. Vachirawit then crashed his lips into Metawin’s, deeper than what he had done earlier as if there were years worth of unsatiated hunger that waited to be satisfied. 

He prayed with every touch and every kiss. 

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	4. Sound & Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Metawin was the love of my life.' Vachirawit repeated to himself as a reminder that he once would have battled to the very end, against all the odds that could have presented themselves against them. 'Metawin was the love of my life.' Why exactly he chanted it continuously was perhaps to recall what it was like to hear love, seek love. He prayed to remember what love felt when it was still Metawin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be grammatical and spelling errors as well as missing words - feel free to point them out. Also, comment and kudos if you like my work.
> 
> Playing: Let Me Know by LANY

There was supposed to be sound. There was supposed to be noise. However, as they sat face-to-face at the busy restaurant that became part of their lives, at midday on a Saturday, Vachirawit swore he could only hear the eerie silence. Not even the imaginary sound of a flatline, which he assumed should have been the case for what unfolded in front of them so suddenly. Somehow, he did not know whether or not he should be thankful. 

After all, in his experiences with relationships, some noises were too loud that one or both parties would wish for the quiet. Fortunately, or unfortunately, theirs was a deafening silence. Vachirawit thought again, that there was supposed to be sound. Any sort of it, even just the drop of a pin would have sufficed. Yet - again - there was none. He wished there was though. 

He figured, maybe in rare occasions, love ended soundlessly.

Vachirawit pondered, _how?_ He continued to wrack the depths of his mind for the answers to how, indeed, did they arrive at a point that they had to agree on parting ways. Or, rather, when did the thought even begin to seep its way into their relationship. 

There were a lot of _perhaps_. He could not fathom where exactly it started to brew. However, Vachirawit was certain that somewhere between all the plans, the investments, and the efforts made for them to build a future together, he and Metawin lost sight of what was most essential - _them_.

It should have been one of the most heartbreaking things to happen: having a love ended in a manner that was theirs. When there was nothing but hopefulness towards a tomorrow together. However, Vachirawit felt nothing as much as he had heard nothing. 

He prayed to feel _anything_. 

Vachirawit looked at Metawin - he hoped that there was something there to grasp still.

Likewise, there was none. 

Likewise, Metawin seemed to be confused. 

Amid the numerous agreements, the countable disagreements, and the ample compromises that were directed towards what would have been for the both of them in the long run, Vachirawit never thought breaking up would be among the things they would both easily consent to. Then he began to wonder why there was no fight too.

There were, officially, three things he wondered about at that moment: why there was no sound, why there was no pain, and why there was no ounce of fight left to make it work for the two of them. When he remembered so clearly, that was what the both of them promised from the very moment the words _I love you_ were sworn between them. 

_I love you_ , Vachirawit thought, became such a natural phrase for them that it may have lost its meaning somewhere along the way as well. _I love you_.

He continued to look at Metawin, who - in turn - continued to return the gaze. Vachirawit wished there was an argument. At least then, he could fully confirm what they were still or what they were not anymore. However, there were no further questions asked as they both sat in their seats, in front of each other and in front of the meal they usually ordered. 

There was no feeling as they spoke once more, as if they reverted to being the friends that were before they began dating. "So… our things?" He heard Metawin thread so casually, as though they were about to set plans for the next weekend. 

Vachirawit answered, “keep them, I guess. But if you’re not comfortable, then we’re always welcome to return them to each other.” Yet, somehow, those were not the words he hoped to have said. 

There were better words.

“Right.”

There should have been better words.

“Metawin - _Win_." Vachirawit corrected himself as he called Metawin's attention, who broke away earlier to look for comfort in the plates that were laid before them. 

“ _B-Bright_?”

"It looks like we'll have to get used to calling each other that way again, huh?"

“I guess.”

Vachirawit loved sounds, the way they were arranged to create different kinds of melodies - music. However, he never minded silences. Silences were as important to musical arrangements as the notes that were combined. He never thought to hate it so much at that moment. He disdained the soundlessness, the painlessness, and the hopelessness. Metawin was the love of his life after all. Yet there they were, about to complete the arrangements of their separation. 

_Metawin was the love of my life_ . Vachirawit repeated to himself as a reminder that he once would have battled to the very end, against all the odds that could have presented themselves against them. _Metawin was the love of my life._ Why exactly he chanted it continuously was perhaps to recall what it was like to hear love, seek love. He prayed to remember what love felt when it was still Metawin. 

Because when he wanted and hoped to say were the words, _can we try again_ , but what passed Vachirawit’s lips were, “we had a great run” and “I still want us to be friends.” 

Vachirawit saw Metawin's eyes widened as he fought the shock that tried to overtake the confusion that then still masked his face. "Are you sure?" Metawin asked with an array of emotions that played in between perplexity and stupor. 

"Yeah, I mean, we're pretty deep into each other's lives now," Vachirawit said as he nodded almost too slowly. "I don't think we can just walk out on each other." 

Metawin smiled and Vachirawit watched as he did so. It was the same smile he cherished so dearly over the years they shared. He began to wonder if he could still take back all the words discussed in that short yet sudden span of time. He knew, however, it was already seconds too late when Metawin answered a curt: "sure."

Vachirawit coughed, instead. “Let me take you home?” He asked tentatively. 

Metawin, in return, merely nodded his head in agreement. He still wore a smile though and somehow Vachirawit wanted nothing more but to hold him. He wanted to embrace Metawin and to kiss him deeply for one last time, to cover for all the next times he would no longer have the right to do so. Vachirawit, however, chose to side with his better judgment. 

Then there was sound; albeit imaginary - the tone of a straight line that ran incessantly. 

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	5. Time & Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is not as confident as he used to be nor is he as brave as he was back then, because Vachirawit is well aware that he let their story run its course towards separating roads. That despite how lovely their relationship is, at least to his memory, he has allowed it to come to an end when the battle should have been far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be grammatical and spelling errors as well as missing words - feel free to point them out. Also, comment and kudos if you like my work.
> 
> Playing: Sorry by Pamungkas

Time is strange, Vachirawit decides, as he sees Metawin stand across the room and just as their eyes meet in an instant. He did not expect to find him there. Not after losing track of him, and especially not after he tells his company how he greatly made an impact on his life and how much he regrets failing to fight for him. For them. 

There is a lump in his throat, as though the air that time tries to knock out of him at that very moment decides to stop right there to add to pain to the surprise. Vachirawit does not know what to do, and it is clear to him that Metawin also is at a loss. Frozen. 

What he only expects to happen today is lunch with his college friend, one he has not seen in years and one who is not part of this particular arc of his life, and exchange stories and updates. However, it seems as though the universe has a different agenda - yet also connected to his schedule for the day. Because the very moment she made her points of how probably time is just further preparing them for something better, Metawin arrives through the doors. 

Even more beautiful than the last time he saw him. Freer. 

Vachirawit wants nothing more than to run towards Metawin. To hold him. To kiss him. To cry to him. 

Yet he is not as confident as he used to be nor is he as brave as he was back then, because Vachirawit is well aware that he let their story run its course towards separating roads. That despite how lovely their relationship is, at least to his memory, he has allowed it to come to an end when the battle should have been far from over. 

Time is kinder to Metawin, he figures, than it is to him. Because during the hundreds of days apart from each other, Metawin continues to grow and to find more of himself - at least this is what he knows from updates he has heard from common friends. Whereas, Vachirawit - since then - continues to search for places and people to belong to. He searches for a home.

He looks for it in new places and new meals, with cuisines he discovers on a random basis.

He looks for it in new songs, genres he would perhaps veer away from in his early days.

He looks for it in new experiences and people despite their impermanence in his life. 

Vachirawit does not find it though and he has never felt more outside than he does in the years before he met Metawin - something he does remember feeling from his previous relationships. The ones that led him to find  _ him _ . 

Then, suddenly, Metawin appears on the other end of one of the restaurants - new places - he looks for a home in and everything makes sense despite all senselessness at the same time. All the pieces of the puzzle fit perfectly again and the different shades of colors burst across Vachirawit’s monochromatic world once more. 

However, Vachirawit, amid all, understands it is all borrowed time. From whoever is up there, that grants him this very chance. To allow him a glimpse of  _ what should have been _ if he decided to stay back then. Silently, he is thankful for the moment that he should not deserve. 

The shame creeps up to Vachirawit again, of the very promise he could keep during the time that he could have and of all the prayers that he has forgotten along the way. He asks himself, particularly, if he deserves so as much as this.

Vachirawit still fights every urge to let his feet take the lead, to let his arms reach out, to his lips feel, and to let his tears fall. From the other side, he could also see how Metawin wishes to do acts of his own but fights against them too. He is completely and confidently sure of that - whatever they are.

Somehow, it amazes him that he can still read Metawin as clear as day even after being apart for so long. If he could still believe firmly in romanticizing circumstances, Vachirawit would even consider it as a sign that there is still a chance for them to get a second go at being together. However, he is old enough to chastise himself against it. A love like theirs, he knows, is a one in a million and there is little to no way to have it twice. Let alone with the same person. 

He is not one of the lucky ones, at least not anymore. 

So all Vachirawit can do is miss him and love him from where he is. From the very beginning of when they stopped, he never denies it. Even that is knowledge to all the shared persons in their lives. His family’s, their friends’, even Metawin’s siblings’ - all three of which do support yet choose to let things unfold on their own. Of course, this is a request made by Vachirawit himself. 

It fucks him up though. 

Way more than he thinks it would.

Vachirawit feels a hand on his arm, immediately snapping him out of his thoughts. He looks at his companion and wears a small smile. Perhaps just to reassure her that he is fine, nothing is wrong. Not that she knows something just happened in mere seconds after her life advice. 

She is not blind, however. Vachirawit is well aware of it. She can read the room and she understands that there is something there. She returns a smile to him and nods after she looks at the man who has Vachirawit’s attention. She knows at that very second - because the look on his face seems like the entire world has been formed right before his very eyes and he is afraid. 

She asks him what he is waiting for and that ‘ _ the something better _ ’ just arrived. She nudges him to stand with a couple of light taps on the back of his arm. She urges him to not be such a baby and that what he chooses to do that very moment could change the outcome and finally put an end to all of the messes he thinks he made. She also adds that it is time for him to throw caution to the wind.  _ Do not think about it, do not calculate it anymore. Stop these questions and - _ “go.”

Vachirawit finds himself standing just as he hears the door open. 

He turns only to find Metawin gone. 

Just like that, Vachirawit is left in a colorized world whose shades will fade out so soon. 

His heart breaks greatly for the second time. 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an internal debate in my mind if I should publish the happier end. I'll think about it some more.


End file.
